


Suicide Is Painless

by twinklukeskywalker



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Depression, Drinking to Cope, Heavy Angst, I only write angst this is bad, Multi, Suicide, be careful, mind the tags yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:32:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinklukeskywalker/pseuds/twinklukeskywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When people kill themselves, they think they're ending the pain, but all they're doing is passing it on to those they leave behind." - Jeannette Walls</p><p> </p><p>Or: John deals with Alex's suicide</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suicide Is Painless

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I actually cried so many tears while writing this oh my god. Guys please mind the tags on this one, as there is heavy reference to suicide and depictions of suicide methods, so be very careful before going on. 
> 
> Pro TIp: listen to White Blood by Oh Wonder for maximum angst™  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvBTZqsxNMc

_ Suicide is Painless. _

 

That’s what John had always thought, in his own considerations, his own plans. But now he has walked in blood and broken glass and empty pill bottles all scattered on their bathroom floor. He knows better now. That is complete shit.

 

_ ~~~~~ _

 

_ I didn’t want to leave a note, John, but I know you’ll blame yourself. _

_ I’ll be fine, Baby, don’t worry. I’ll see mom again. I’ll see my cousin. _

_ Don’t blame yourself. It’s not worth it. You did nothing. It’s not your fault. _

_ I wish I had a better reason. I wish this wasn’t planned out. It should be an _

_ impulsive thing. It feels so selfish to plan. _

_ I love you so much, Baby. I just wish it could be enough. _

_ Yrs. Forever _

_ Alex _

 

_ ~~~~~ _

 

John is completely numb. Blue and red lights are flashing in the back of his skull. Wheels of a stretcher squeak as it is wheeled from the bathroom. Red tracks on the wooden floors. A police officer is trying to get his attention, to ask him some questions. He feels sick.

 

“Sir? Sir? Sir?” She shakes his shoulder gently. John only hums an acknowledgment.

 

“What was your relationship to the victim?”

 

_ Victim _ . The word is wrong, but he can’t think of another one. He settles for just answering. Simple.

 

“Husband. He was my Husband.” 

 

_ Was _ . 

 

“Can you tell me…” John stops listening. He needed to call Washington, Lafayette, Eliza, Hercules. A paramedic steers him out of the door, into an empty ambulance. The doors slam. The sirens blare. John gives in to his nausea.

 

_ Suicide is Painless _ .

 

They won’t let him see him. Instead they stick him in his own room, connected to fluids and doped up on anti-anxieties, which do nothing. It is hours, or maybe it’s minutes, before someone comes to lead him to a room. It’s cold, unfeeling,  _ dead _ . 

 

Alex is under a sheet, soft hair fanned out around his head, eyes closed, peaceful. His arms are at his sides, white bandaging running up to his elbows. John can’t stay more than a few minutes. He finds a nurse to ask about Alex’s things.

 

He asks for Alex’s wedding ring. He breaks down in the hallway.

 

_ Suicide is Painless. _

 

Lafayette and Hercules arrive around midnight. John can hardly remember calling them. They sit by his bed, where he’d been confined by the doctors. No one says anything. Hercules shakes with silent sobs. Lafayette just stares at a spot on the wall, tear tracks drying. 

 

“How did he do it?” John is shocked by the question. He turns to Lafayette.

 

“Why the  _ fuck  _ are you asking me that?” The end of the sentence falls off into gasping sobs, his voice thick.

 

“Because, John. Because I need to know. I need to know that he had the least amount of pain, because that’s what ‘e deserved at least.” Lafayette’s accent thickens throughout the sentence.

 

“Stop referring to him in the past! He di-didn’t d-deserve an-any of this! He shouldn’t be dead!” John wails. Lafayette pulls him close. 

 

“He overdosed. Broke the mirror and cut his wrists. I guess he wanted to be thorough.”

 

They dimly hear Hercules on the phone.

 

“Eliza. G-get Maria. And Peggy. And c-can you come down to the hospital? Alex. Alex.” He can hardly make it through.

 

“Alex killed himself.”

 

_ Suicide is Painless. _

 

John is released that morning, after a visit from the on-call psychologist, a grief counselor, the police, again. John calls to make arrangements as Lafayette takes him to Mount Vernon, where Martha and George are staying for the weekend. Martha puts on a brave face when he and John show up at the door with bloodshot eyes, but they can hear her sobbing when she thinks they are out of earshot. Washington makes calls to the cabinet, to Jefferson, to Madison, to Adams, to the Press Secretary, who agrees not to release anything until Monday. 

 

Eliza, Maria, and Peggy come to visit later, when John is sleeping, finally, dosed with a sedative the doctors had given him.

“We called Angelica. She’s flying in tomorrow,” said Eliza.

 

“Where’s John?” asked Peggy.

 

“Up the stairs, second on the left,” replied Martha. Her eyes were red. Alex was her adopted son.

 

_ Was. _

 

“The funeral is Wednesday,” George said. “The Press Secretary is going to release a statement on Monday.”

 

Eliza bursts into tears. Maria pulls her into her shoulder, presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.

 

No one else makes a sound.

 

_ Suicide is Painless.  _

 

Monday is when the statement is released.

 

_ Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton Commits Suicide _

 

John spends the day throwing up. It turns into dry heaving, because he can’t remember the last time he ate. 

 

Martha, bless her, has tried to force food on him, but he’s refused. The sedatives take away his appetite anyway. No one else has much success either. 

 

It’s only when Hercules threatens to take him back to the hospital to be tube fed that he manages to stomach a piece of toast and a bit of an orange slice. He can’t go back to that  _ place _ . Not where Alex had been, not, Alex. 

 

Mount Vernon spends the day warding off reporters, all trying to get a statement from the Secretary’s widower

 

Hercules breaks down over his sewing. John dashes back into the bathroom to empty his stomach.

 

_ Suicide is Painless. _

 

The funeral is well attended. Jefferson, Madison, Adams, Knox, the Burrs, some Treasury and White House staff. It is broadcast on the news channels. 

 

How anyone makes it through it is a miracle. John can hardly speak for his eulogy. Eliza can’t finish hers. Maria takes over, but finishes with tears streaming down her face and a thick voice. Martha and Angelica take them off the podium. Angelica shakes with sobs when they lower the coffin into the ground. Lafayette has a panic attack in the limo.

 

The worst is when Washington breaks into tears when he addresses the nation. Jefferson hardly says a word the entire day. Madison pulls John into a tight hug. Burr and Theodosia give him a huge bouquet. 

 

No one knows what to say, except for John.

 

“I’m a widower.”

 

_ Suicide is Painless _ .

 

John drinks Wednesday night. He is back in his and Alex’s apartment, or maybe it’s just his. He doesn’t know. 

 

“I wasn’t good enough for him!” he is shouting to Lafayette and Hercules, a vodka bottle in his hand. “I didn’t love him enough, and now he’s dead, because I didn’t love him enough!” His voice is an anguished wail.

 

“John,  _ amour _ , that’s not true and you know it.”

 

“It’s my fault!” He feels tears well in his eyes, again. “It’s my fault.”

 

“It’s not true John.” It was Hercules. “One day, you’ll believe that. It was not your fault. It was not anyone’s fault. Alex…” He trails off.

 

“What, Herc? What? Alex was messed up, fucked up in the head?” John rounds on Hercules.

 

“Yes John, he was! Don’t get mad at Hercules. He wasn’t okay, John. But that doesn’t mean that it was your fault that he died. And it was not his either.” Lafayette is crying now, too. He pulls the bottle from John’s hands, taking a swig.

 

John collapses to his knees, fumbling at the gold band on his finger, the gold band on the chain at his neck.

 

“Alex.”

 

Hercules joins him on the floor, pulling him into his shoulder. John lets his tears fall.

 

“Alex. Alex. Alex.”

 

_ Suicide is Painless. _

 

John Laurens knows that is not true. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> okay yall 
> 
> you can find my on tumblr @alexanderhammyton
> 
> If any of you ever, ever need to talk, I am here for you. Please find a support system.


End file.
